


Children of the Sun

by Panlock



Series: Origin of Love [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mirror Sex, PWP with feelings, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panlock/pseuds/Panlock
Summary: Sam won't let Dean deny them this any more.They end up with Dean squashed against the vanity, facing the sink, and Sam is crowding behind him. The mirrored door is now to Sam’s back. It creates a 360-degree area of vision for the brothers and the fluorescent bathroom lights burn bright, magnifying everything about this situation that will surely send Dean right back to hell one day.Angst and wincest is what I'm good for, apparently.NOT BETA READ.





	1. Authors Note

Authors Note:

 

This is the FIRST oneshot I've ever written and I pumped this out in literally a few hours. I'm actually impressed with myself. In the past I've tried to write a oneshot and it ends up being freaking five chapters and over 20k words.

Title and parts of the theme are inspired by "The Origin of Love" -Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

The timeline is set directly after Dean returns from Hell in season four.

Rated: E for explicit sexual content. Do not read if you are under 18 or are uncomfortable with graphic sexual encounters between two men. Really, I think this might be the raunchiest thing I've written.

Warnings: Sibling incest, mild dub/con in the beginning, Incest kink

Additional Tags: First time, dollop of angst, cursing, mirror sex, dirty talk.

*Personal goal for this one: Dirty talk so good make some grownfolks blush

NOT BETA READ

If you catch something that wasn’t in the tags/warnings please notify me and I’ll add it.  
  
  



	2. Deny me and be Doomed

Chapter One: Deny me and be Doomed (PWP w/ Feelings)  
Rating: EXPLICIT  
Warnings: Mild dub/con in beginning. Read authors note for more warnings/tags.   
Words: 4282

* * *

iiXoXii  

          They had this conversation before, first when Sam was fifteen with his heart in his throat. John was on an ammunition run and Sam asked his brother to kiss him. Dean said Sam didn't know what he was talking about and acted like it never happened.

        Again, when Sam was seventeen and so fucked up on self-loathing and whiskey he was sobbing into his brother's leather jacket at a beachside bonfire. At first Dean couldn’t even make out the words garbled into his collar, but when Sam lifted his head it was all over his face. Dean recognized it right away; his brother was hurting, and confused. Those feelings he had at fifteen didn't go away, it wasn't a weird phase.  

      _"Fuck, Dean I'm sorry."_ His young voice was wrecked, wounded. Dean felt a surge of dread and guilt as real as the waves around them threaten to drown him. Sam was suffering, thinking he was the only one, and Dean had been too much a coward to see it. He came clean that night, let his brother know he wasn't alone, but Dean also made it clear it could never happen. Sam left for Sanford three weeks later and they didn't talk about it again until after Dean made his deal.

        Every night for the last month of Dean's deal, Sam crawled into his brother's bed. Every night he tried to give them what he knew they both wanted. Dean told him no again and again.

        Sam did get his brother to talk, though. Each night Dean received his last rites bit by bit, even if he couldn't look his brother in the eye while they spoke. Dean knew he was going to Hell and spilled his guts. Confession, repentance, and absolution were things he needed at that time. Sam just wanted his brother alive.

      _"I want you,_ " Sam had begged, half draped over his brother's body and offering himself any way Dean would take him. _"Please, Dean I... I've been in love with you since I can remember."_

        But Dean wanted to die knowing he protected his little brother, even from himself. _"Don't take that from me,"_ Dean finally said and Sam didn’t push it anymore. Dean died without crossing that line. 

        Now, Dean has been back two months and things are tense. The choked words he had confessed during that last month were hanging above them now, threatening to choke him again. Dean would have never admitted to so much if he ever thought he would see his little brother again. He wasn’t expecting to be in close quarters with the man, sitting across from him every meal, behind the wheel of his baby again and still miles away from the person he wanted more than life itself. He wasn't expecting the openly hungry looks from Sam, either. It was like there was constantly blood in the water and Sam had all the presence of a great white shark.

        Tonight, Dean could feel their shameful truth lurking in the impala, following them into the dim motel room. He avoided looking at his brother, felt like he was walking through a land mine field as they unpacked for the evening and darted into the bathroom. He hid in there longer than what should have been acceptable for a man his age. 

        When Dean came out of the shower he expected Sam to be in bed, but his brother was leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom door with no shoes. That was Dean’s first clue—they rarely walked around these nasty rooms without shoes or socks and Sam’s bare feet might as well have been a gauntlet. “Heeya, Sammy.” Dean sounded playful and relaxed but when he saw his brother in waiting his arm tightened, bringing the towel against his waist more firmly. “Bathroom’s all yours,” he tried to step to the side but Sam wouldn’t let him dart away. “Dude,” he snapped but didn’t look up into the other man's eyes.

        "Don't do this again." Sam's tone was rock solid, hurt, and annoyed.

        Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, “do what?” He denied it. He’ll deny this until the day he dies, as many times as it takes for Sam to fucking  _drop it._

        “Don’t act like you don’t know what this is, Dean. Not now, when it’s just me and you. You don’t get to pretend like I’m crazy.”

        Dean sighs and looks away. “Let me get some clothes on.” He tries to walk around the other man again but his brother holds his ground. 

        The younger man advances, forcing Dean to walk backwards until he's pinned to the door to the bathroom. It has a body mirror on it, and Sam can see his reflection behind the other. Some primitive part of Sam’s brain likes seeing his brother sandwiched by his image.

         Dean tightens his jaw, but his eyes are wary. He's at least as tired of this battle as Sam. "Knock it off," he warns with a thin voice. 

        "What are you so afraid of?" Sam asks childishly and he should know better. This line of reasoning will get him nowhere. He had tried the love confession and true as it was, it didn’t work. Then again, maybe he does know better because this decision to confront Dean right out of the shower is nothing but premeditated.

        "We’re not doing this again," Dean looks up then and his eyes are hard. He’s ashamed, been ashamed since he figured out what this was all those years ago. It never went away, but at least he could say he never touched his fucking kid brother.

        "No," Sam agrees. “We’re not,” and he’s on Dean in an instant, hot and hungry and ready to fight for it. The younger hunter collides with his brother violently, backing them both into the bathroom door so forcefully the mirror rattles against the frame.

        "Sam, what the hell?" Dean hisses but allows himself to be held down. He should push the other man away but instead his palms just rest against Sam's wide chest, unable to push or pull.  

        Sam growls and gets one hand on his brother’s neck and the other on his hips to unravel that goddamn towel. He feels crazed. Maybe it’s the demon blood, or maybe four months of trying to find meaning in life without his reason for being has just made him this desperate. Regardless, Sam bites and licks into his brother’s mouth, kisses Dean like he’s trying to crawl inside him.

        All higher order thinking flies right the fuck out of his head when Sam starts to suck on his tongue. Dean's hands drop to his side as Sam moves his attack from his brothers mouth to his jaw and then neck, laving the sensitive skin with tongue and teeth. Sam grinds him into the door and Dean turns his face to the side to gasp, “Sam, fucking think about this!”  

        “I have thought about it, you know I have. I’ve been thinking about this since I was fifteen years old and so fucked up about it I wanted to die.” He gets a hand around his brother's hard, bare cock and they both almost lose it.

        Dean's mouth hangs open and he stares at Sam with glazed eyes, already strung out from nothing more than a hand job. They had never done this, Dean never let it get that far, but God he had wanted. “Sam, please—” stop? Don’t stop? Would Sam stop if he asked him? Dean’s hands are limp at his side like he’s just the naked passenger in his own life right now but he starts to grope for the door handle behind him.

        “Tell me your first fantasy,” Sam rumbles into his brother’s ear. “What's the first thing you remember wanting to do to me? I know you've thought about it." His hand is working slowly but confidently over Dean's dick and he keeps licking and sucking on Dean's neck and ear. "I wanted you to pin me down and kiss me deep and slow until I came in my jeans, fuck. That got me off so many times.”

        Dean squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to imagine making out with fifteen year old Sammy but still feels like he might come like a goddamn teenager, himself. Then, blessedly, he gets to the knob and wretches the door open a bit awkwardly. They both tumble backwards into the bathroom and even though Sam releases his slick grip on Dean’s erection, he doesn’t give his brother more space than that.

       They end up with Dean squashed against the vanity, facing the sink, and Sam is crowding behind him. The mirrored door is now to Sam’s back. Between the mirror on the vanity and the mirrored door, a 360-degree area of vision is created for the brothers. The fluorescent bathroom lights burn bright, magnifying everything about this situation that will surely send Dean right back to hell one day.

        Dean is naked, still wet from his shower, and flushed from his face to his collar. His lips are kiss swollen and puffy and his dick is still hard enough to pound nails even after he tried to flee. Sam is boxing him against the vanity, big frame wide and solid.

        “Look at us. Really look,” Sam’s face hovers over Deans left shoulder and looks his brother’s reflection in the eyes. “You want to deny us this, again? For what?” He drops both hands onto the counter on either side of his brother and Dean is trapped. “You gave up your childhood for me. You sold your soul for me. You went to Hell for me, but you won’t let me have this?” Sam rolls his face into his brothers’ neck and breaths him in, now talking directly into the smooth skin there. “No, you won’t let _yourself_ have this and I’m fucking sick of your martyrdom.” He gets his own pants undone and shoves them down and off in a matter of seconds.

        “Sam,” Dean’s breath hitches when he feels the unmistakable hot length of his brother’s dick against his ass cheek. Unless he throws an elbow back, there’s not a whole lot he can do about it, though. "Sam, don't." He's starting to panic. 

        “Shh,” Sam soothes and sheds his flannel by tearing a few buttons. When they’re both naked he wraps his arms around his brother’s body and leans his cheek against Dean’s bare shoulder blade. Dean falls forward slightly and has to catch himself on the counter to keep from collapsing into the sink. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this, don’t fucking lie to me.”

        And Dean won’t do that. He has abstained for years, but he never once took back the revelation he made at that bonfire when Sam was seventeen and heartbroken. He wouldn’t let Sam suffer alone, think he was the only one with this blackness burning through him. “So what, you just want me to bend over and take it, then?” He tries to sound affronted, thinks maybe if he points out how crazy this is Sam will snap out of it.

        Sam doesn’t miss a beat, though. Instead of backing off he chases the kernel of a confession his brother dropped and smashes it between his teeth. “Is that what you want, Dean?” On the counter in front of them sits Dean’s shower bag and in it they both know he keeps a small bottle of lube and condoms. Sam snatches the lube with one hand and ignored the rubbers. He won't have anything between them anymore. “All these years I’ve been begging you to fuck me up, make me yours for real, but this is what you want, hu?” Sam kicks his brother's legs apart and grabs a handful of his ass.

        “Fuck,” Dean starts shaking again and drops his chin to his chest when Sam pressed his wide, hot, palm into the center of his back. He’s going to let this happen. This is a decade in the making and Dean just doesn’t have the will power to stop it this time.

        Sam squirts the lube onto the fingers of one hand and slides his other hand under Deans arm and holds him across the chest. “I already belong to you.” His words are harsh but his finger is surprisingly gentle when he swipes it across Dean’s exposed hole. He’s using an unreasonable amount of lube, wants it wet and slick when they’re finally pressed together. This isn’t about pain; they’ve had enough of that for a dozen lifetimes. "I'm yours, Dean."

        Dean closes his eyes as soon as he feels Sam’s finger slide up inside him and he spreads his legs wider.

        “That’s it, baby.” Sam’s other hand is rubbing his brother's neck, fingers dipping into Dean's hair soothingly. “You belong to me, too. You're mine and I'm yours, right? I never needed you to say yes, I just needed to take it because you were always mine to have any way I want." Sam's words are lighting Dean up from the inside, hitting every repressed switch and instinct that he's tried to ignore. "At that bonfire,” they both know what he's talking about immediately. "I kept drinking because I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth." He slides another finger in along the first, slick and long. "Wanted you to go down on me. I should have just put you on your knees, then." 

        Dean makes some wounded sound, something between a moan and cry, and grinds his ass back. Right now he thinks yea, maybe he would have cracked a lot sooner if Sam had went with this approach instead of trying to talk him into it. Then again, Sam never tried dirty talking, either, and that’s proving to be really effective.

        It's so effective that Sam has worked three fingers into his brother in no time at all. “So hot Dean, fucking stretched and pink like a girl.” He looks down the muscular line of his brothers back, over the swell of his ass, and down between his spread legs where he's fingering him open. 

        “Screw you,” Dean snaps breathlessly and it’s the first complete thought he’s managed in minutes.

        “Yea, Dean,” Sam agrees on a sigh and licks his brothers neck, wet and possessive like the rest of their love-making. “You can screw me whenever you want it. I’ll keep myself lubed up and ready for you. Or, I can suck you, get your dick wet like that. Wanna fuck me using my own spit as lube, Dean?” He pulls his fingers out and lines his dick up, rubs the head against the slick, open, furl.

        “Shit,” Dean feels dizzy just before Sam presses in, feels as if the world is ending. " _Sam_ ," Dean groans like he’s already coming as his brother holds him by the meat of his shoulder and presses in. “Sammy, Sammy, _ah_ -" He clenches his teeth and jerks his head. It hurts; it hurts like setting a broken bone or icing sore muscles. It felt so good he nearly sobbed. This,  _this_ is what he had been sacrificing and suddenly Dean couldn't remember why he ever thought that was a good idea.

        When Sam’s fully seated he rests his hips and wraps one arm around his brothers middle so his fingers are splayed across Dean’s belly and the other hand goes to Dean’s hair. “Look,” he jerks his brothers head back and pulls Dean flush against his own body. Sam starts rolling his pelvis slow and gentle, barely a movement at all, more like they were only grinding on one another. “Want you to watch me fuck you. Watch yourself work my dick and tell me this doesn't feel right.” Dean falls into his brothers silky rhythm right away, moving almost like a belly dancer, and they both gasp. "Fucking perfect," Sam says to their reflections as he gets off on watching them move.

        Dean’s neck is pulled back over his brother’s shoulder and his eyes are hooded, but yea, he watches. With the aid of the mirrors Dean can see from his thighs and up. He watches his own dick drool and bob against his stomach as he grinds back on his brother. From behind, Dean can see the muscles in Sam's legs, back, and ass tighten each time he thrusts forward. Dean's slack-jawed and moaning softly—getting off on the smooth way they fuck, knows this is it for him.

        Sam can hear his brother panting open mouthed and it makes him feel buzzed, drunk on the helpless, wrecked sound. “I love you,” he murmurs into the other man’s ear and his hand on Deans stomach skims up over his hips, abs, and neck, and then down his thighs and cock. He doesn’t squeeze or jerk him off, just gropes him possessively and enjoys the solid, hot feel of Dean heavy in his hand. “You’re the only thing I fucking love. You think this is going to ruin me? I’m already ruined and if you leave me again I’m going to light the fucking world on fire, Dean, you have no idea.”

        “God,” he groans in sympathy because he went to Hell so he wouldn't have to live without his little brother. Dean knows exactly how Sam feels. He throws one arm back over his shoulder to claw at his brother behind him, hold him the best he can at this angle.

        The younger hunter releases his death grip on Dean’s hair in favor of taking him by the hips with both hands. “Fucking love you so fucking much,” he repeats and pulls Dean back on his dick, going up on his toes to get more leverage. Sam nearly sobs, “goddamn you for keeping this from us,” as he grinds his face between his older brother's shoulder blades.

        “I’m sorry,” Dean gasps and fuck, _he is._ He’s so sorry. Dean’s biggest life regrets: Letting Sam get abducted to Cold Oak; Not fucking his brother years ago. The thought that they could have been doing this for years almost breaks him because it is _so good._ Sex never felt like this, not with any hookup or even Cassie. This was like being shoved together and finally realizing he had never been whole his entire life. “Oh, fu _ck,”_ his voice cracks as Sam plunges in deeper than before and hits this spot that makes his legs weak. “Fuck yea, Sammy, _yes_.”

        Sam pulls back just enough that he can look down his brothers back like he had before, but now he watches his dick gliding in and out. “You look so good on my dick, Dean. Always knew you would," his voice is nearly a growl as he repeats the deep thrust, same angle.

 _“Guh, fuck!”_ Dean has lost any composure he had and his pupils are so blown it’s a miracle he can see at all right now.

        Sam’s eyes fly back onto his brothers through the mirror. “C'mon, does it feel good, De? Tell me you like it.”

        “Fucking like it,” Dean answers immediately and he’s watching Sam watch him in their reflection. He feels vulnerable and powerful in equal measure, totally exposed but Sam is right there with him.

        “Touch yourself,” Sam orders breathlessly. “I want to watch you stroke that pretty Winchester dick for me.”

        “Fuck, Sammy,” Dean croaks like he can hardly stand the thought. His face is burning when he wraps his right hand around his swollen erection, still holding himself against the sink with his left. Somehow, Sam has the dexterity to get the bottle of lube over his brother’s dick and dribbles it over the head, making Dean’s fist and cock slick.

        Sam groans and Dean's eyes shoot up to catch his brother watching him through the mirror. "You make me so hot for you." Sam licks his lips as he watches Dean work his shaft. “Do you want me, too?" 

        Dean doesn't even think about denying it now and gasps, "yea, Sammy. I want you. Always wanted you."

        Sam pants into Dean's ear, "I want you to take that pretty wet cock you've got between your legs and fuck me open.” His eyes flick from his brother's face to his dick and back. “I want you to come inside me like I'm about to come in you.” His left hand is squeezing Dean’s hip like a vice. “Then, I want you to pull out while I’m still swollen and sore and your come is dripping out.” He emphasizes every other word by hauling Dean back on his thrusts, “and I want you to stick your fingers inside me. I want you to feel it, feel what I am without you—fucked and empty.”

        “Oh fuck, Sam.” Dean answers mindlessly because that’s how he has felt his entire life up until this moment. He was an idiot to think they should avoid this. Dean rolls his body back, rides his brother’s dick like his life depended on it, and strips his own fast and hard.  

        Sam shoves Dean’s hands away, though, and curls his own fist around it. “Hold onto the counter and fuck my hand, baby,” he husks against his brother’s neck.

        Dean drops both hands to the counter and grips the edges tight. The new position changes the angle and heat shoots up his face. He’s watching himself fuck his brothers hand, hips pumping smooth as an oiled piston while the crown of his dick slides through the coil of Sam’s fist. Sam's other hand is wrapped around Dean's chest as he plows him from behind. It's frantic and fast; it shouldn't be so smooth. Sam's eyes are boring into Dean through the mirror and Dean isn't going to last like this. “Fuck, Sam I love you.”

        Sam snarls back through clenched teeth, “I was made for you,” and jacks Deans dick around the head. "Fucking come on my dick, Dean. I want to feel it when you shoot your load all over that mirror.” He’s pressing his lips into Dean’s neck but manages to keep his eyes on the mirror and repeats, “C’mon, c’mon give it up for me, fucking do it” until Dean goes whip-cord tight and comes all over himself and up the mirror. 

        "Fuck,  _fuck!_ Sam," Dean howls through his orgasm and wretches his arm back to grip his brother's ass, pulling him in closer. 

        Sam growls approvingly, fucks Dean through the aftershocks. It feels like his brother's pleasure belongs to him and it makes him want Dean more and more. "Don't you ever try to keep this from us again, Dean, never again." He pulls his hands away from his brothers spent cock and wraps his arms around Dean's middle. Sam pulls them as close as possible and cracks his hips so fast it punches the air out of both of them.

        Dean is still reeling from his orgasm and can hardly hear past the roaring in his ears and the slick plunging sound of Sam taking him roughly. He watches his brother in the mirror with wild awe. Sam has smashed his face into Dean's neck and he's mouthing the soft flesh there. Dean knows Sam wants to bite him, mark him up, because that's what he would want to do. "It's OK, Sam," he says and can see the wince fly across his brothers face at the thought. "Bite me, please. Do it, fucking _bite me_ and come inside _me_ — _ah!_ " Dean moans out just as Sam bites down and rides Dean's ass until he screams.

        Afterwards, they collapse on the floor, which is probably the only thing they end up regretting about the evening. Sam crumbles against the back of the bathroom door and its mirror; Dean is cradled somewhat awkwardly between Sam's open legs.

        Then they’re kissing, again. Only, now it’s not as violent and Dean is giving as good as he gets instead of just taking it like a first-time whore. “I can’t believe that just happened,” Dean sighs after heavy kissing that was likely to get them caught up in round two.

        Sam gives his brother an unimpressed look. “I’ve thought about doing that every day since I was a kid, Dean. I can't believe it didn't happen sooner." 

        Dean frowns, though. “…Why,” he asks quietly and tips his head back a little to look Sam in the face. “Why do you think we’re like this?”

        It wasn't for lack of trying. They had both resisted, in their own ways. Could it be their dad’s fault, the hunting lifestyle? Did Dean do something to cross both their wires when they were kids?

        “I don’t know.” Sam shrugged and started playing with his brother’s shorter hair. “Once I found out you felt the same way I stopped caring about why.” Sam kisses him again and pulls Dean into his chest. The older hunter lets it happen and thinks he’ll have to deal with Sam being on top of him for the next few days, or maybe the rest of their lives. He’s one-hundred percent fine with that.

iiXoXii 

        Years later Heaven will tell them that they are soulmates; they were made for one another and their bond was something of legends. Neither of them will be very surprised.

 

* * *

 


End file.
